She nodded without saying a word. I locked eyes with Director LaToya. She maintained that annoying neutral face she used when breaking tough news. I’m sure she’d fought for us. I had no doubt she used every bit of influence to keep the Centurions together. But as the ship sank for the rest of us, I suspected she negotiated herself a life raft. After all, if she could build one team, then she’d be able to do it again.
“I’ll have the intern deliver your personal effects.”
“Thanks,” I said, withholding a growl.
“Let’s go, Lix. We might not be Centurions, but we’re still family.”
She wiped her eyes as we walked back to the elevator. If I had to drive her family to Vermont to keep them safe, I’d go without hesitation. Considering how many times she bandaged my wounds or healed a broken bone, it was the least I could do. I’d have to reach out to the others to see if they were doing any better. Synch lived with a sick father. It’d be harder to get him and his dad to safety, but I would not let them remain in harm’s way. If the government wouldn’t help us, we’d help ourselves.
We got into the elevator and as the doors closed, Director LaToya vanished. It would be difficult to recalibrate without the might of the Centurion brand behind us. It meant no high-tech gadgets, space ship, or fantastic snacks. Man, maybe without the snacks I’d be able to fit into my costume… Dang, even my suit belonged to the Centurions.
The doors closed and Lix leaned against me until I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Those jerks are going to ignore years of service?”
“Designate Unknown. You are in an unauthorized area.”
“Well,” I sighed, “didn’t take long for them to toss us aside.” I pressed the button to the lobby.
“Last week, we stopped an interstellar god from trying to turn Earth into slaves, and we don’t even get a ‘farewell’ from them?” Lix kicked the elevator doors. I couldn’t blame her.
Every time we donned the costume, we put our lives on the line. We risked orphaning children or widowing a spouse. It’s the reason behind maintaining secret identities. More than that, it’s the reason I’d kept everybody at arm’s length. Now I had to worry about the guys, or even the HideOut being a target.
“Do you want me to go with you to Vermont? I can protect you.”
She gave me a tight squeeze. “Thanks, Bernard. But we’ll be okay. I hope. The family could use some bonding time. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise? I can go back to nursing and use my powers to help the sick?”
I envied Lix. Any hospital would be lucky to have her. A public relations guy with the ability to summon lightning? Not sure I’d have the same job prospects. Thankfully, I had been putting money away for years and didn’t need a job.
“Maybe this is the worst of it?” Lix had a knack for bouncing back and keeping her chin up. Fired and furious one moment, but five minutes later, she was already trying to put a positive spin on the situation.
“Maybe.” I wasn’t convinced.
“Take care of yourself, B,” she said with a kiss on the cheek. She let go, and with a wave, she headed to the front doors. I wished her the best and made a mental note to call her later and see how she was holding up. I’d be making a lot of those calls before hitting the sack.
Years of work thrown out the window. They disposed of us like leftovers. If I replayed all the things I sacrificed to be a hero, all the people I pushed away, it’d be staggering. Clenching my fists, I reminded myself to stay calm. I’d make this work and put a spin on it so the future looked a little brighter. That was my job, or at least it had been. But there remained a tightness in the pit of my stomach I couldn’t ignore.
I exited headquarters as a Centurion for the last time.
“The worst has yet to come…”
2
I’d have called it cliche as Mick pushed another beer across the table. A superhero down on his luck, spending his day wandering the city lost in a fog. But instead of picking himself up off the ground and regrouping, he headed to the bar to slam back cheap booze. At least at Bottoms Up, Mick kept the lights dim enough that nobody asked for an autograph. I pulled the hood further down my face, being extra obvious in my attempt to be discreet.
“My day has been wonderful,” Mick said as he popped the cap off a beer. “Thanks for asking. Call me crazy, but I have a feeling yours isn’t going according to plan.”
“I’ll be fine.” It was the truth. I needed a day or two to sort out my life. Now that the world knew I led the Centurions, getting a job wouldn’t be easy. I couldn’t add LaToya as a reference. But in truth, I didn’t need a job. The Centurions received paychecks, and I lived like a pauper. My bank account would suffice for the next decade. But what about Sentinel?
“Let’s skip being coy.” Mick owned Bottoms Up, where he pretended to be a bartender. Most of his job was listening to customers as they poured out their hearts over a cocktail.
“What?”
“I ask how you’re doing. You say fine. I prod a bit more. You resist. Ultimately, you realize I’m relentless, and you can either stop drinking and leave or answer my questions.”
“Is that how this plays out?”
“Bernard, you’re the smart one here. I’d have thought you’d know better.”
True. The guys joked about how I dished out wisdom whenever they came to me with a problem. I’m pretty sure each of them had me as their number one on speed dial. But where do the wise go for advice? I need to look no further than my graying bartender.
“Sentinel, huh?” I appreciated his whispering.
“Yeah. No point in hiding it anymore. I’m a superhero.”
“I have your action figure.”
“Really?” I started downing my fifth beer. Me? Drunk? I wish. They never tell you about the downside of having superpowers. Alcohol didn’t have the same effect as it did on a normal person. That was the biggest problem in my life right now.
“Sentinel is hot. If I were a few years younger, I’d have bagged and tagged that youngin.’”
I snorted. The beer burned the inside of my nose. Ever since I arrived in Vanguard, I had the luxury of listening to people speak about my alter ego. I could detach from the identity and treat it like a job. But now that they knew my big dark secret, every statement about Sentinel felt personal. I raised my eyebrow as Mick gave me a not-so-subtle wink.
“I’m pretty sure you’d ruin me for all men.”
“Damn straight,” he said, wiping down where I had sprayed beer. “But in all seriousness, how are you holding up?”
“Honestly, I’m doing okay. It’s a lot of change at once. I have some tough choices to make. How do I go…” I paused as somebody nearby ordered an Old Fashion. Mick made the drink, exchanging pleasantries as the gentleman went back to his table. “I need to figure out how I’m going to carry on. I gave up everything to be Sentinel.”
Bottoms Up was the Ward’s low-key gay bar. There were no skinny guys standing on tables serving high-priced cocktails from their navels. After listening to one too many show tunes, Mick had ripped the cord out of the jukebox. The men here knew when to give a guy space and when to drag them into the bathroom for a quickie. As Sentinel, I’d sip Hero Chasers with Alejandro at Midnight Alley. But as Bernard Castle? I always preferred to drain a beer with Mick.